


You'll Catch Your Death

by mothteeth



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-24 22:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothteeth/pseuds/mothteeth
Summary: You get caught in the rain and Stan knows just how to help you warm up





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Explicit warning and tags for the eventual second chapter of this. This first chapter is pure fluff

It’s gorgeous out today. A little cloudy, but sunny and crisp; the perfect fall day. You head outside to soak up a little sun and read in the yard. You head over to the picnic table on the edge of the woods, a two minute walk or so from the Mystery Shack; far enough away to avoid the noise and chaos, but close enough to keep it in sight. You open your book to the page you last left off on, and lose yourself in the story. 

The next time you look up, the sky has gotten a little darker with clouds, but it’s still comfortable and you’ve just gotten to the good part in your book, so you keep reading. As you approach the nerve-wracking climax of your book, a fat drop of water hits the page, making the ink bleed just a little bit. You snap it shut and try to hide it under your shirt to keep it relatively dry. As soon as you tuck your book into relative safety, the sky opens up, soaking you to the skin in a matter of seconds. 

Why did you have to read so far from the house? You’re muttering and grumbling as you scramble back to the Shack. You manage to swing the door open and scurry inside right as you see a brief flash of lightning. Unfortunately, as soon as the light fades, so does every other light in the house. The power is out. Amazing. 

“Stan?” you call out, stumbling into the kitchen. There’s a bit of light coming in from the window despite the thick storm clouds outside. You pull your book out from under your shirt. It’s completely soaked. Hopefully it isn’t completely ruined, but you aren’t confident. “I’m in here, sugar,” You hear from the living room. Leaving your book on the table, you head toward the sound of his voice, barking your shins on a chair and swearing loudly. You hear a low chuckle from the other room. 

The laugh stops when you get to the living room. “You look pretty rough, kitten,” Stan tells you, grabbing your arm. His hand is burning hot on your skin. “You’re shiverin’. Do ya have a spare outfit?” he asks with genuine concern. You shake your head. You definitely weren’t planning on needing to change. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Stan shrugs out of his button down, putting it over your shoulders before carefully making his way to his bedroom. 

Your teeth are chattering, but you take off your shirt and bra anyway, hoping that having the cold wet clothes off of you will help, especially with Stan’s shirt, which is unbelievably warm on you. You shimmy your wet jeans off quickly, your panties following, before buttoning the shirt, which covers to the tops of your thighs. You’re still cold, but at least you’re mostly dry. Your hair is still soaked, but you can deal with that later. 

Stan comes back after a few minutes with a sweater, a pair of pajama pants, and a towel. It takes him until he actually goes to hand you the clothes and towel to realize your state of undress. He turns bright red before turning around slightly. “Uh, well, here you go. It ain’t much but it's dry.”

“Thank you, Stanley. I appreciate it.” You pull on the pajama pants first and then wrap your hair in the towel before regretfully unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. You quickly pull the sweater over your head, grateful for warm, dry, soft clothes. “All set,” you tell him, tugging on his arm, bare now that he’s only in a white undershirt. He winces as your fingers touch his skin “Jesus, toots, yer freezing. Come here.” He pulls you close to him and guides you to the couch, gently pulling you down with him. You immediately curl up tight against him, soaking up his body heat like a sponge. 

You finally start to warm up when Stan clears his throat. “Hey, I’m going to go make some hot chocolate, ya want one?” he asks, his face a little pink. 

“That would be amazing. Please?” 

“Yeah, come on then.” He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it around you before gently guiding you to the kitchen with him. You both bump into things on the way there, but you manage to get there in one piece. 

You sit at the table while Stan searches for the kettle and the hot chocolate mix. He finds both in a matter of minutes and soon there’s a kettle of water heating up on the stovetop. He stands against the counter as he waits for the water to boil. His face lights up in the way it does when he gets an idea. “Wait right here,” he tells you before heading to his liquor cabinet. He takes a few minutes to search through the bottles before pulling out the one he was looking for. “This’ll be sure to warm ya,” he holds the bottle aloft and in the dim light you can read the Bailey’s logo. No cheap Irish Creme here, you suppose. 

The kettle starts to whistle and Stan pulls it off the heat. He pours two packets of cocoa mix into two mugs, follows with the water, adds a splash of Bailey’s to each, and stirs them before taking them to the table. He sets your mug down in front of you before sitting on the opposite side of the table. “Stanley Pines, are you trying to get me drunk,” you tease as you wrap both hands around the mug, relishing the warmth of it. 

“Ya caught me. Nothin’ gets past you, doll,” he grins widely and a blush creeps into your cheeks. 

“Hey, be careful, that’s hot,” Stan warns as you bring the cup to your lips. You heed his warning and set the mug back on the table without removing your hands from the side. It feels too good on your cold fingers. “I hope ya like it. Old family remedy,” he laughs quietly and falls silent. Despite how hot it is, you take a sip. Thankfully it's cooled just enough not to melt your tongue, but it’s close. “Mmmm, this is delicious. Thank you,” You tell him gratefully, taking another sip shortly after the first. You know there isn’t much alcohol, but you can feel yourself warming up from the inside. It probably isn’t just the cocoa. 

You sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, enjoying your hot chocolate before Stan lets out a cough. He’s going to hurt his throat trying to “subtly” get your attention. “So, uh, ____ you’ve been spending a lot of time here, lately, and I just wanted to say that, uh, it's nice havin’ ya here. Without the twins it’s gotten kind of lonely here, but you bring a little life back to the Shack. I just wanted to thank ya for that.” You smile “Of course, Stan, I like spending time with you.” He looks at you skeptically, but doesn’t say anything. You take his hand, “Really, I mean it. Spending time with you is the highlight of my day,” He looks away, but you can see the pink returning to his cheeks. You hope this is heading where you think it’s heading. 

“Look, _____, I don’t know where this is going, but I’d like to keep it going, if that’s something you’re okay with.” 

“I definitely want something more.” You stand and walk to his side of the table. You put your hand on his chin and lift it for a kiss, very softly and gently. Stan looks at you with surprise in his face, but closes his eyes and relaxes as you lean in to kiss him again. Stan moves his hand to the back of your neck, gently pulling you in. His other hand reaches for your waist, pulling you into his lap. You settle into his lap without stopping your kissing, getting bolder as you go. You gently run your tongue over his lower lip, getting him to part his lips slightly. You take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. 

Stan gets bolder as well, moving his hands under the hem of your sweater, lifting it slightly to get at your skin underneath. His hands are still burning into your skin, but now, it feels like you’re going to melt under his touch. You kiss down his jaw and too his neck, biting and sucking gently at the skin, drawing a moan from Stan. Without warning, he slips his hands under your legs and stands, lifting you easily and carrying you to his bedroom. You busy yourself kissing his neck, not wanting to block his view so he doesn’t bang your head into anything. It’s too soon for that.


	2. Part 2

After a lifetime you’re in the bedroom, laid gently on the bed, with Stan pressed against you. He’s so, so painfully warm, but you’re ready to be burned alive. He kisses your jaw, your neck, your chest, leaving scorching lip prints in his wake. Your hips grind desperately against him, needing to be closer and closer. Stan chuckles in your ear “A little eager, are we?”   
“I need you, please,” you whisper. You can feel his grin on the crook of your neck, teeth against skin, hot breath making you shiver. 

“Well, kitten, you’ve got me,” he murmurs in your ear, taking the lobe gently between his teeth. You let out a moan, high and breathy, full of need. 

Stan’s hands find their way under your sweater again, this time pulling it off of you. Goosebumps dot your skin as you’re uncovered, but his body against yours is more than enough to make up for it. You tug the hem of his shirt, and he sits up for a moment to remove it, leaving you cold for a brief moment until he’s on you again. Skin to skin is impossibly warmer than skin to fabric. You can feel every inch of his chest; every scar, every mark is burning into you, and you welcome it eagerly. 

You work your hands into the waist of his pants, working to get the button undone. You’re hands are still cold, and he takes a sharp breath as your cold fingers touch the sensitive skin of his hips. You do, however, manage to get the button undone and the zipper. You try to nudge his pants down, but he isn’t willing to budge enough to get them off. Not yet. Stan’s hands are under your back, one arm pulling you closer, and the other snaking into your pants to grab your ass and pull your hips up. He’s grinding into you in earnest now. 

You manage to wriggle out of your pants, pushing them down and off somehow. The next goal is to get Stan out of his. He doesn’t want to move his hips from yours, but your insistence gets him to back up for a moment to discard his own pants and boxers. Neither of you are interested in wasting time anymore, your desires are becoming demands. 

One of Stan’s hands slides it's way down your side, finding itself between your legs, where his fingers immediately find your clit. You jolt at his touch, grinding yourself into his hand. Your moans are muffled by the hungry kisses the two of your are exchanging. As his fingers slip inside you, you stifle yourself by biting his neck. You don’t bite hard, but you can feel the growl that escapes his throat. You suck hard to bring up a bit of a bruise and hopefully get him to react. And react he does. As you attack his neck, his fingers curl inside you, hitting your g-spot, and forcing a gasp into your lungs. Stan takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, preventing you from continuing to bite and suck his neck. He knows that you prefer receiving hickies than giving them anyway. 

Another finger slips into you, thrusting slowly and continuing to focus on your g-spot. When he thumbs your clit, you know you’re toast. A breathy moan escapes you, and Stan redoubles his efforts. It’s only a matter of time before you’re panting and grinding down, your orgasm rushing at you like wave. When it hits you, you swear your heart skips a beat. You writhe under Stan, crying out in pleasure as he helps you ride out the waves of pleasure. As you hit the absolute peak, he bites a little harder on your neck, sending you higher still. When you come down from the high, you’re panting and needy. “Please, Stan.” you can feel his smirk rather than see it as he lines himself up to thrust into you painfully slowly. 

You’re trying to move your hips up to meet him, but your hips are pinned by strong hands. Damn him. He takes full control and takes his sweet time. “Fuck, kitten, you feel so good wrapped around my cock,” You can’t gather yourself enough to actually respond, rather, you breathe out a high moan. “You like that?” he asks, punctuating with a sharper thrust into you. 

“Y-yes,” you manage to stammer out. 

“God, that’s hot,” he breathes into your ear before claiming your mouth in another kiss. Despite needing his touch, you have to pull back often to pant out a few breaths or to moan loudly. Every time you do, Stan takes the opportunity to kiss your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, anything he can reach. One of his hands palms your right breast, and you back arches severely into his touch. “You’re so impatient, sugar,” he chuckles in your ear, enjoying the power he has over you. 

Despite your best efforts, both of you are reaching your limits, so Stan pulls out all the stops. His thumb finds your clit and brushes it gently. He raises one of your legs onto his shoulder, angling you so he hits the spot inside you that makes you see stars. It only takes a few minutes of this treatment, you’re right on the edge of climax. Stan thrusts in all the way one last time and grunts “Cumming,” in your ear. You can feel him twitch inside of you, and it sends you spiralling into the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had. You scream your release, digging your nails into Stan’s shoulders. You’re going to leave a mark, but neither of you are paying enough attention to care. 

The two of you take a moment to breathe, Stan still on top of you, panting heavily. After a couple of minutes, he rolls off. You turn to face him, snuggling closely up against him. He’s so warm. One hand rests under your waist, the other on your back, rubbing up and down soothingly. You sigh in contentment, closing your eyes and resting your forehead on his chest. “That’s one way to warm up,” Stan’s voice is low, and you can feel it reverberate. 

“The best way to warm up,” You agree, nuzzling him gently. As you settle in, you whisper “I love you.” 

“I love you too, kitten.” Stan rests his chin on the top of your head, pulling you in tight against him.


End file.
